Anybody remember the televangelist scandals of the 80’s? Jim and Tammy Faye Bakker, Oral Roberts and his highly publicized plea for - what was it, $8 million? - to keep God from striking him dead. Remember the uproar in all the secular news media and the shame felt by so many evangelicals at being linked - however unfairly - with the practice of defrauding the gullible with fraudulent promises of spiritual returns? Things have certainly changed. Did you see anything about the financial shenanigans of Henry Lyons, the head of the National Baptist Convention? He didn’t get much attention from the mainstream media. Maybe the racial implications made it too dangerous to touch... Maybe the political climate has changed, maybe the saturation coverage of political corruption has desensitized us. But the lack of media attention hasn’t stopped either the sexual or financial corruption. Just google church scandals and see what you find.
You know how they used to talk about compassion fatigue, when one famine followed another, and you could hardly open a magazine without seeing another wide-eyed, skeletal child, and eventually people started to get numb and eventually tuned out? Maybe now we’re into corruption fatigue, when misappropriation, money-laundering, and outright theft hardly rate a ho-hum. Or maybe because the corruption of our political class has outpaced the religious misconduct.
But what it all goes to show you is that some things never change. Corruption wasn’t invented in the 80’s, and hasn’t gone out of fashion just because it isn’t being reported. Public religiosity has never immunized anyone against the sin of greed. Jesus’ criticism of the religious leaders of his day has an oddly contemporary sound.
He chastens them, first, for their fancy clothes. They liked to parade around in long robes, he said. “So what?” we say, “They all wore funny clothes back then.” Well, it’s like this: most men wore short tunics. It was cheaper, for one thing, and for another, it was more practical for the active life that most led. Think Brooks Brothers or Savile Row instead of jeans and running shoes. The scribes Jesus criticized wore these robes to show how important they were, to set themselves apart from the common herd, to emphasize their authority. Unlike Jesus’ authority, which came from the compelling authenticity of his teaching, theirs needed a boost from a flashy public persona. That fancy clothing also signaled the kind of pride that hungers for honors and distinction, and the arrogance that flaunts its learning and position. And what’s worse, they exalted themselves even in the presence of the Lord, taking for granted their right to the places of honor in both synagogue and temple.
Jesus also condemns these teachers of the law for craving applause. They bask in the esteem bestowed on them by those of lesser stature, who honor them with formal greetings. Remember when Jesus spoke to the rich young man who wanted to know how to inherit eternal life? To his flowery salutation Jesus replies, “Why do you call me good? No one is good but God alone.” If someone addressed these guys as “good teacher,” they would no doubt smile and nod in approval at the recognition of their worth.
As if this alone weren’t bad enough, absolutely the opposite of the kind of behavior Jesus has been trying to teach his disciples to learn, these teachers of the law couple their public piety with a callous disregard for the poor. They take the honor given to them as a license to prey on the weak and vulnerable. These same people who claim to be experts the law are breaking it right and left.
He accuses them of robbing widows’ houses. Widows symbolized the helpless in the Old Testament, and prophets cried “Woe” to those who wronged them. But these men, instead of helping widows and orphans, were somehow profiting off of them. Scribes in those days were forbidden to charge fees for their teaching; they were dependent on secular employment or gifts. There are dozens of ways they could have preyed on the unsophisticated, unprotected women of their culture. The more I look at these characters the more closely they resemble the more unscrupulous of our media preachers, the ones who promise unspecified blessings to the gullible in return for a sizable donation to their particular “ministry.”
And lastly Jesus castigates the scribes for their long, elegant public prayers. Prayers are supposed to be addressed to God, but these are spoken to win the admiration of their hearers. In a way, this is a violation of the fourth commandment, “thou shalt not take the name of the Lord in vain.” Although they pretend to speak to God, in reality they are speaking only for effect. But that effect is far-reaching.
Unfortunately, the modern-day editions of these objects of Jesus’ scorn have an enormous influence on the non-Christians’ view of the church. How many people do you know whose picture of Christians is formed by occasional exposure to high-profile television personalities? Now, I’m not talking about people like Billy Graham or Chuck Swindoll, whose public and private life are both beyond reproach. But far too many who started out with the best of motives let themselves become seduced by the trappings of celebrity and wind up distorting - however unintentionally - the message of the gospel.
In stark contrast to these religious glitterati, the next scene Mark presents us with stars a poor widow. Picture Jesus and his disciples taking a break on the steps of a big public building, say the U.S. Mint or the Lincoln Memorial - lots of room to people-watch. It’s particularly interesting because from where they sit they can see the pillars separating the outer terrace from the inner court, and that’s where the people bring their tithes and offerings. There are cornucopia-shaped offering boxes called “shofar-chests,” thirteen of them, for people to drop their gifts into. These chests were labeled for different kinds of offerings, and you could make some guesses about who was giving what both by which chest you put your offering into and by how loud a clang it made as you dropped it in. And Jesus takes the opportunity, as he always does, to draw a lesson from what they see.
It’s not Ted Turner, with his high-profile announcement of a billion-dollar donation, complete with press conference, round-the-clock television coverage, and sanctimonious criticism of his fellow billionaires for not doing likewise, whom Jesus commends. It’s this poor widow, who would probably just as soon not be singled out at all, who is probably embarrassed by the small size of her offering, whom Jesus recognizes as a person after his own heart. After all, when you have $3 billion, and you give away $1 billion, you still have $2 billion left. I could live quite comfortably on that, couldn’t you? And besides, it’s tax deductible.
Now I have to stop for a moment here. This is Sacrifice Sunday, and I’ll bet that a lot of you think that I picked this text to preach on because it was a not-so-sneaky way of underlining the church’s financial needs. But I didn’t do it, cross my heart, Scouts honor, it’s not my fault. I’ve been preaching through Mark for months, and this is the gospel reading the lectionary prescribes for today. So don’t blame me, blame the Holy Spirit, who has a habit of surprising us with perfect timing. Maybe it’s not going to be so obvious after all.
Well, anyway, back to the text.
What is it that makes the widow and her gift so special?
We know very little about her. We know that she is a widow, and we know that she is poor, and we know that she has just given away her last dime. Most preachers and scholars spin this story as an example of sacrificial giving. She is a classic example of one who loves God with everything she has. She provides a contrast to the rich because she is poor. She provides a contrast with the teachers of the law because she has no status, no place or privilege. She provides a contrast with those who give ostentatiously, for the benefit of their audience, because she gives quietly, humbly.
One can draw three lessons from her example.
First: Jesus commends those who give out of love for God, not those who give in order to get benefits from God.
Second: So-called little gifts, which count for nothing among humans, can loom larger in God’s eyes than gifts of millions. It’s not that God despises the larger gift; temples cannot be built or worthwhile ministries sustained with pennies alone. But God does not count as we do. Even the poorest among us can make an offering acceptable to God.
Third: If we assume, as I think we can, that the rich whom Jesus has condemned are tithing according to the letter of the law, this story provides a hint that tithing alone doesn’t satisfy our obligation to God. The kind of sacrifice that Jesus asks of his followers is a total one, not a carefully calibrated minority share which still leaves us in control. The kind of total sacrifice that Jesus asks of his followers is closer to the sacrifice Jesus made for us, which didn’t hold anything back.
This is the classic interpretation, and I think it is valid. This woman and her gift is a model for us.
But there’s another way to look at it, which I think is equally valid.
The particular leaders whom Jesus denounced were part of a larger religious system which ran the temple as a highly profitable enterprise. Not too long before this he had driven out the money changers, saying, “You have turned the house of prayer into a den of thieves.” This devout woman was giving away her substance to a corrupt, spiritually bankrupt, and oppressive institution. She is to be praised for her devotion, but it is misguided, because the temple is a fruitless cause that exploits her. The high priests live in luxury on their cut from the contributions made by the poor; she is helping to perpetuate an unjust system. Remember the words of the prophet Isaiah:
“Trample my courts no more; bringing offerings is futile... Your new moons and appointed festivals my soul hates; they have become a burden to me... even though you make many prayers, I will not listen... Cease to do evil, learn to do good; seek justice, rescue the oppressed, defend the orphan, plead for the widow.” [Is 1:14-15]
Now that she has given all that she has, who will help her? Will the temple officials come to her aid? Or will they ignore the needs of the people in order to concentrate on maintaining their power base? Will some of the money she and others like her had given be used to bribe Judas? They have taken the gifts of God and used them for self-preservation and self-aggrandizement, rather than in serving God’s people.
The church now, like the church then, has the same two extremes.
There are givers, and there are takers.
Most of lie somewhere between the far ends of the spectrum which Jesus uses as examples. All of us give sometimes and take sometimes. Many of us, myself included, like to be liked and enjoy being admired, and maybe forget sometimes what is due our calling as children of God. Few of us would go so far as to give away all we have to live on; I’m not even sure that is a good thing. It is even a possibility that the poor widow gave out of despair and exhaustion, rather than out of love and hope. Few of us ever approach the pure unlimited sacrifice of Jesus Christ. That’s why we need him.
But there is a real difference in fundamental attitude between givers and takers.
Don’t get me wrong. We ALL receive more than we give. I’m not talking about people who receive with gratitude the gifts of God’s grace that come to us as his children, members of the body of Christ and co-heirs with him of eternity. And I’m not talking about the wounded who come to the church needing to receive comfort and healing and forgiveness and the strength to start again. And I’m not talking about the ordinary give and take of life, where we share one another’s burdens, and take turns helping each other out. And I’m not talking about money, or not primarily.
I’m talking about a fundamental difference in attitude between two kinds of people.
Givers trust in God, rather than in themselves. They are content with what God chooses to give them, rather than insisting that life meet their demands. They may be pessimists or optimists about current conditions, but God is the object of their ultimate allegiance. They are focused outward; they worry more that other people don’t have enough, than that they won’t.
Takers, on the other hand, have not learned to trust in God. Although they may pay lip service, they worry about being cheated, about not having enough - whether status or possessions or power or whatever. Takers feel a need to surround themselves with things as a hedge against an uncertain future, or to medicate an unsatisfying present, because they haven’t experienced the reality of God in their lives, or they aren’t really sure that God will come through for them. They are focused on themselves.
And there are two problems with takers. The first is internal to the church. Like the prosperous teachers of the law in Mark’s first illustration, the taker abuses the gifts of the giver, diverting the gift away from building the kingdom of God to - perhaps - personal empire building. That’s fraud.
The second problem with takers - and the bigger one - is the bad rap they give the Gospel. That’s an external problem. A lot of people are just purely turned off of the Gospel of Jesus Christ by seeing it turned to blatantly commercial use. Fraud is bad. I deplore it. But keeping people away from Jesus Christ by making him look bad to unbelievers is far, far worse.
I don’t believe that it’s possible for someone who has truly experienced the love of God and the forgiveness of Jesus Christ to be a taker. I don’t believe that this church has many - if any - people whose primary orientation to the world is as a taker. But I think we all have room to grow as givers. And the first step in growing as a giver is to grow in the trust and knowledge of the goodness of God.
I’d like to challenge you all to go home today thinking about these questions:
Where are you on that line between giver and taker?
How aware are you of what God has already given you?
How much do you trust God for the future?
How ready are you to follow the example of Jesus Christ, who gave up everything for us?
